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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709567">Flirting with Danger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrrraceUnderfire/pseuds/GrrraceUnderfire'>GrrraceUnderfire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coming of Age: Peter Newkirk's Journey [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Out, Flirting, M/M, Missing Scene, Non-Explicit, Sex Education</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:49:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrrraceUnderfire/pseuds/GrrraceUnderfire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Who was Sergeant Garrett, and why was Peter Newkirk so shaken up by him? While he's not completely naive, he's still too inexperienced to really makes sense of Garrett's interest, let alone his own feelings on the matter. A missing scene from "A Minor Problem." </p><p>This fits at the end of Chapter 47. This story does mention slash, but it is one-way, unrequited and non-explicit.</p><p>2021 Papa Bear Awards: Silver Award for slash.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coming of Age: Peter Newkirk's Journey [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flirting with Danger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FicFanFun/gifts">FicFanFun</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Newkirk is still pretty young in "A Minor Problem," and as LeBeau feared, he didn't know what to make of it when an American Sergeant unexpectedly took an interest in him. This missing scene takes place on less than two months before Newkirk’s 18th birthday, and there are references to the fact that he is still recovering from a broken left arm.</p><p>The words LeBeau speaks in French are "You look tired, very exhausted," and later, "Make beautiful dreams." After that, he says, "This little guy has had a busy day," which I think is something he'd say if he was sure neither Newkirk nor anyone else understood!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Newkirk’s Halloween night recitation of “The Highwayman” was a triumph. After it was all over, he was surrounded by friends and acquaintances. Colonel Hogan was the first to shake his hand as he descended from the stage. His words—“I’m very proud of you, Newkirk,” using his last name in front of a crowd—did even more to lift Newkirk up than a room full of earth-shattering applause had done.</p><p>Some POWs asked him to reprise the death scene; others wanted to know where he learned it. He got a series of friendly punches on his good arm and slaps on the back, and he was feeling giddy. As the room was emptying out, Newkirk and LeBeau stayed behind to put chairs away.</p><p>Newkirk was humming as he worked, despite having his broken left arm in a cast. LeBeau was delighted; Newkirk had diligently practiced to be able to perform, and it was wonderful to see him basking in the acclaim.</p><p>“You were brilliant tonight, <em>mon pote</em>,” he said softly as they worked.</p><p>Newkirk smiled and dipped his head down. Praise from LeBeau was as potent as Hogan’s; Newkirk never doubted LeBeau’s warmth, affection, and unconditional love. But he lived for signs that LeBeau saw him as more than a little brother. It wasn’t just that Newkirk had swallowed his fear and spoken in public, which was much harder to do than get on the stage to perform magic tricks; LeBeau’s praise was his way of saying that Pierre was really, really talented, stammer or no stammer.</p><p>“Thanks, mate,” Newkirk replied simply, but his smile was a sunbeam. He looked around the room and saw it was tidy. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go.” He flung his right arm over LeBeau’s shoulder as they headed for the door. They leaned in affectionately toward one another.</p><p>As they were leaving, Garrett, a sturdy American Sergeant from Barracks Nine, stopped them at the door. He was a handsome olive-skinned guy in his early 30s and one of the organizers of the event, and he had a disarming smile for Newkirk.</p><p>"Hey, Peter, you ought to come out for the next play," he said as he wrapped an arm around the young Corporal. "You're good. I'd cast you in a heartbeat." LeBeau might as well have been invisible as Garrett raved about Newkirk's performance.</p><p>"Um, um, um," Newkirk stammered in reply. He wasn't that friendly with Garrett, and was surprised by the sudden interest, the physical contact, and the familiarity with which Garrett used his first name. “I, I can’t. The Colonel needs me…uh, often.”</p><p>LeBeau interjected himself. "<em>Oui</em>, that's very kind, Garrett, but it would be hard for him to be in a play when we have to be available for any missions that may arise. As soon as his arm is better, Colonel Hogan will need him even more," LeBeau said. “Pierre has special skills.”</p><p>"Mmm, I can see that. Lucky Colonel Hogan,” he said to LeBeau, never once taking his eyes off Newkirk. “Well, maybe you could play volleyball with us when your cast is off,” Garrett said, his hand sliding down Newkirk’s back. “Or just come hang out and get acquainted with the rest of the guys in Nine.”</p><p>“I, I don’t play volleyball,” Newkirk said. “The fffffingers,” he explained, pulling away from the touch to stretch and wiggle the digits on his uninjured right hand in demonstration. “C-can’t risk br-breaking them, especially after br-br-breaking my arm.”</p><p>“Mmm, yeah, I’ve heard of those magic fingers. I can only imagine how talented they are,” Garrett said in a low voice. “Well, OK, Peter. If you change your mind, you just let me know. You know where to find me, right?" Garrett patted Newkirk's bum nonchalantly and strolled off.</p><p>Newkirk’s hand shot to his backside. He had been more flustered than flattered by Garrett’s attention, and now he was completely rattled. He shot out the door, and LeBeau raced behind him, biting his lip and thinking there were a few things Pierre clearly didn't yet understand. He'd have to find time to talk with him privately, LeBeau thought as he caught up with Newkirk and fell in stride with him. Pierre’s distress was evident to him.</p><p>LeBeau didn’t have to initiate a conversation, because under the eaves of Barracks 4, Newkirk pulled him aside. “He j-j-just hit on me, LeBeau!" Newkirk said in a heated voice, a hand covering his backside like he’d been burned there. LeBeau’s raised eyebrows and the bob of his head left no doubt of the answer.</p><p>Newkirk had to remind himself to close his mouth. "He’s a…” Newkirk stammered. “But Garrett doesn't act like... he doesn't walk like... I mean, I know he directs plays, but he, he, he likes sport!"</p><p>His heart thumping, Newkirk spun his head around to look over his shoulder. Dusk was falling, and he could see Garrett with his friends Rivera and Albritton taking a final stroll for the day on the parade ground. All three lived in Barracks Nine, and all were regulars on the volleyball and baseball teams. From where Newkirk stood, it seemed they accepted Garrett as one of the blokes.</p><p>He turned back to LeBeau and leaned in. “Louis! Wh-why did Garrett say that to ME? Does he think I want to..."</p><p>"You’re young and pretty, and he's optimistic," LeBeau said with a shrug as he stood under the eaves, studying Newkirk’s reactions.</p><p>“LEBEAU!” Newkirk yelled. He could feel his cheeks flushing at the casual way in which LeBeau responded, as if this sort of thing happened every day.</p><p>“… and he's hoping you'll pay him a visit. But you mustn't," LeBeau said adamantly.</p><p>"I wouldn't!" Newkirk replied just as forcefully. “Blimey, Louis, of course I wouldn’t!” He stalked off and LeBeau followed behind him.</p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p>As they arrived back in Barracks Two and a mob greeted them, Newkirk was overwhelmed at first by the attention. But when Colonel Hogan ruffled his hair and sat down beside him at the table, he started to relax. He suddenly craved the security of Colonel Hogan’s arm around his shoulder, and he leaned in. Hogan responded as he’d hoped, tugging him close, and this made it easier to enjoy the requests to repeat the highlights, or share what he was planning next, or explain his technique for memorizing such a challenging piece.</p><p>"Practice, mate," he told Garlotti with a grin. "I've been pr-practicing for days. Don't tell me you didn't hear me!"</p><p>"Believe me, I know," Hogan joked. "Practice really does make perfect. This young man has proved it." He tightened his grip around Newkirk’s shoulder.</p><p>"And you don't even really stammer when you recite it, Peter," Carter chimed in.</p><p>"That's sort of the point, Carter," Newkirk replied glumly. There it was—a reminder that in addition to being thought of as the kid and the thief, he would always be the stammering one, first and foremost. He thought about a book he'd just finished reading for a second time, about the Roman emperor Claudius the Stammerer. Everyone underestimated him. Newkirk thought he'd like to be estimated accurately just once in a while.</p><p>They talked and joked and kidded for a while. Sitting beside Hogan always calmed Newkirk as he felt connected, sensed the Gov’s warmth radiating, and inhaled his scent of rain and grass. But then it was time for rollcall and the Colonel stood up and pulled away. Nobody could have possibly seen it, but the physical separation was a jolt; Newkirk could feel his energy draining as they filed outside. As he stood in formation, he tried to stay as near to Colonel Hogan as he could without being obvious about it, but Sergeant Fuchs was on duty and he insisted on orderly ranks.</p><p>Standing at arm's length from Colonel Hogan, Newkirk began ruminating. LeBeau wasn't right about everything. And how dare he call him "pretty." Peter Newkirk wasn't pretty; men weren’t. He was handsome, or so he’d been told. He decided then and there to skip his next shave. He liked the look of stubble on the other men, and if he went a week without a shave, he might have some too. Maybe Klink could lecture him to shave, like he was always doing to LeBeau and some of the other men.</p><p>Back inside, Newkirk sat alone at the table with a cigarette, a cup of tea, and his thoughts. Colonel Hogan was busy now, and all around the barracks conversation turned to that night's mission—another job he wouldn't be part of. He rested his chin on his hand and shut his eyes for just a moment. His eyelids were so heavy. Deprived of the adrenaline rush of going outside the wire, Newkirk found himself exhausted most evenings. Suddenly he felt a poke in his back and he realized his face was resting on his arm. LeBeau's hand was on his neck.</p><p>"You should get to sleep, mon frérot," LeBeau said. "Let me help you into your nightshirt. And take some aspirin. I have seen in your eyes all evening that you still have pain."</p><p>Newkirk grumbled, but he accepted the help and the aspirin. Yes, his arm did hurt, but mostly he was tired of needing help and irritated with LeBeau for reasons he couldn't even explain to himself. Why did Garrett have to notice him? Why did LeBeau know so much about stupid things? And when would that dull ache in his arm go away?</p><p>He had figured out a way of getting his pullover on and off and just needed help tugging it over the cast. Newkirk sat on the edge of the bunk wrestling with it as LeBeau knelt in front of him. An outrageous thought crossed Newkirk's mind completely unbidden, about something he would never do, and suddenly he could feel himself responding and turning crimson. He looked at LeBeau and blinked back tears as their eyes met.</p><p>LeBeau looked at him with worry on his face. Newkirk could read the caring and concern in LeBeau's eyes, and he wanted to fall into his arms and tell him he was scared of his own thoughts, but instead he dropped his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He got himself back under control quickly before anyone could notice how he’d responded, like a stupid boy with no restraint. LeBeau murmured, "<em>Tu parais crevé, tr</em><em>ès fourbu</em>," then silently tugged off his boots and socks and helped him slip on the nightshirt. Then Newkirk stood to pull his trousers off. LeBeau picked them up and folded them neatly.</p><p>LeBeau was holding a blanket as Newkirk settled onto the bunk, and Newkirk could feel eyes boring into him. Hogan had emerged from his quarters and was watching patiently for LeBeau to finish up; Carter was looking too. It wouldn't do to need LeBeau's help, so Newkirk snatched the blanket and arranged it over himself awkwardly with one arm and shut his eyes. He wished he was alone so he could relax himself in the best way he knew, but he was too tired for even that.</p><p>A few minutes passed, and through a haze Newkirk could feel LeBeau patting him as he re-arranged the blanket. "<em>Fais de beaux rêves</em>," LeBeau said softly. Newkirk grunted in reply.</p><p>Newkirk was drifting, and around him, voices murmured about bridges and timers and camouflage. He was at the far edge of consciousness when he heard the bench scrape back, and a pair of feet crossed a short distance. He felt the weight of a man sitting on the bunk beside him, then a strong hand resting on his chest.</p><p>"He did so well tonight," he could hear Hogan saying, though it sounded like he was underwater. "I'm very proud of him, and very impressed."</p><p>"Oui," LeBeau said. "He should be proud of himself. He is very brave."</p><p>"He is brave. But all the work he did to perform that poem really took it out of him," Hogan continued.</p><p>"I'll say. He's pretty cranky," Carter observed with a laugh.</p><p>"Nahhh," Hogan said sympathetically, patting Newkirk's chest as he stood. "It's been a long day, and a long week. He just needs his rest. He'll be fine in the morning."</p><p>"Louis?" Newkirk suddenly mumbled.</p><p>LeBeau went to his side. "<em>Oui, mon pote</em>?" There was no reply. He took Newkirk's right hand and felt a squeeze, which he returned, smiling affectionately. If Pierre was calling for him, he couldn't be too angry.</p><p>"Is he waking up?" Hogan said.</p><p>"No, he's still asleep," LeBeau replied, tucking Newkirk's hand under a blanket. "<em>Ce petit gars a eu une journée bien remplie</em>. We can go. He's alright."</p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p>The next morning after rollcall, Newkirk pulled LeBeau aside again, outside and as far from the others as they could get.</p><p>“Louis, what you said last night about Garrett… and w-wanting me to pay a visit… and, well, what… ?”</p><p>LeBeau waited for him to elaborate, but Newkirk seemed to be at a loss for words.</p><p>“Come, sit,” LeBeau said. He grabbed Newkirk’s arm and led him to a bench behind the recreation hall.</p><p>LeBeau look at his friend for a long moment, gauging his emotional state. Confusion, he thought. And fear. Maybe if Pierre just understood a little better, LeBeau thought. Then he realized he wasn’t sure how much Pierre really knew about men like Garrett.</p><p>“Pierre, you do know about the men in Barracks Nine, don’t you? Where Garrett lives?” He got a quizzical stare in return. Oh, for heaven's sake, he thought, maybe he didn't know. He had sheltered this boy too much.</p><p>"Well, he's one of Rhys and Feldman's friends. You know Rhys," LeBeau hinted.</p><p>Newkirk did know Sergeant Rhys, a wisecracking Welshman with a lisp and funny way of tossing his head. Feldman was a New Yorker with a sassy wit, and they were—to put it mildly—inseparable. Newkirk wasn't stupid. He’d seen them together, he’d heard other men’s snickers, and he knew what that meant.</p><p>"In that whole barracks, they're all like Rhys and Feldman, Pierre. They're all… oh, how do you say in English?"</p><p>"What, queer? Not just Garrett too, but all of them?” Newkirk whispered in shock, his eyes huge. LeBeau nodded. “Rivera and Albritton too? Those baseball players?” Another nod. “Your mates Phillipe and Monserrat? And Swift and Morris from the RAF?” LeBeau nodded again. “But they don’t seem…”</p><p>“Not everyone is flamboyant like Rhys and Feldman,” LeBeau said. “They couldn’t contain themselves if they wanted to. Many men can ‘pass,’ or they wouldn’t be in the military. And the word I was looking for is homosexual, Pierre. It is kinder.”</p><p>Newkirk was shaking his head, unable to make this information compute. "Louis, they can't all be... Really? A whole barracks? How m-m-m-m-many of them…." Newkirk stammered. He seemed so shaken that he couldn’t complete a thought.</p><p>"Pierre, Barracks Nine has fourteen men, out of more than 900 in this camp. It's not that surprising. In such a large group, there are bound to be some men who prefer other men," LeBeau shrugged. “They are probably not the only ones.”</p><p>"Really? B-b-b-but how did they all end up in one b-barracks, then?"</p><p>"They found each other and chose to be together. It's safer for them. They look out for each other," LeBeau said.  He debated whether to press on, but he thought Pierre needed to know the score. “Pierre, men go there to visit so they can receive that type of attention from some of them. Didn’t you know this?"</p><p>Newkirk was shaking his head in utter confusion, so LeBeau spelled it out: "Sexual attention, Pierre. Some of the men enjoy providing others with that release, and some men crave it. But you must not go there. Colonel Hogan will not permit it.”</p><p>None of the men in Barracks Two ever went—Hogan had laid down the law on that from the start, though clearly Newkirk hadn’t understood what he was driving at when the older men snorted at the declaration that Barracks Nine was out of bounds; he had just joined in the laughter. Other men from around the camp did partake of what Barracks Nine had to offer—some only rarely, some regularly—and there wasn't much said about it. By silent agreement, everyone looked the other way, including Colonel Hogan and presumably Kommandant Klink.</p><p>Newkirk looked completely shocked, so Louis asked him gently, "You know this attraction exists, don't you?"</p><p>"I’ve worked in theater, Louis, so obviously I know about it!" Newkirk said. Yes, he had heard whispers of men with men and women with women and had seen certain things before most boys his age had. But no one had actually spoken out loud about it in anything other than a joke, nor had anyone taken it in stride quite the way LeBeau seemed to.</p><p>“All right. Well, you mustn’t go there,” LeBeau said.</p><p>“I already told you, I wouldn’t!” Newkirk snapped. “I said that yesterday!”  </p><p>"Whether you <em>would</em> or not doesn't matter to me," LeBeau responded evenly. "I'm simply saying you <em>must</em> not. Colonel Hogan can’t bend certain rules for the men on his team. Military law does not condone affairs between men, no matter what the heart says."</p><p>"Military law? But... why is there military law? It, it can't happen that often," Newkirk reasoned.</p><p>"Pierre, think," LeBeau said. "The military brings men together in stressful circumstances for very long periods of time without women. This is why there are <em>maisons closes</em> near most military camps. Barracks Nine, it's a home to many homosexual men, but it’s also a brothel. Not all of the homosexual men provide that um, service, of course; it's only a very few in this camp. Sometimes men find release with one another. Most go because there are no women, but for some it is their preference to be with men." He stopped. “Surely you’ve noticed men coming and going from there?”</p><p>Newkirk puckered his lips in the pout that signaled he was deep in thought. Maybe he had noticed, but he had assumed the stream of visitors had something to do with volleyball or sunbathing, strong common interests of the Barracks Nine crowd that were of no interest whatsoever to him. Or, he thought, it might have had something to do with theatricals, which he did enjoy, though fear of stammering in front of a whole new group of men made him hesitant to try out for anything.</p><p>"D-d-does Carter know about this?" Newkirk asked.</p><p>LeBeau couldn't help but laugh at the non sequitur. Newkirk was perennially worried that Carter knew and understood things that he didn't. "He probably hasn’t paid attention, Pierre. Or if he does know, he has decided not to think about it. I know that is the case with Kinch. He doesn't approve, so he chooses not to think about it at all."</p><p>"Approve? What is there to approve? It’s, it’s wrong, isn't it? It's a ssss... a ssss... a ssssss… a sssin," Newkirk said, clenching his eyes shut each time he approached the difficult sound. God, he hated when he did that.</p><p>"<em>Oui</em>, I went to church also, and I learned that,” LeBeau answered. “But what do I care who another person loves? When two people want to become one, it’s their business."</p><p>Newkirk was flummoxed. It took him a moment to find any words at all. “So, so it’s love and not j-j-just, um, sssss…”</p><p>“Pierre, for some men it is just sex, but for some it is more,” LeBeau said.</p><p>Newkirk pouted again for a moment, biting his lip. "L-L-L-L-Louis, you know a lot about this. Are you telling me you're…" Newkirk grabbed LeBeau by the sleeve of his jacket, looking fearful.</p><p>"What would change if I were, Pierre?" LeBeau said harshly. Then his face softened. Pierre never stuttered over his name unless he was overwhelmed. "No, I am not homosexual,” he said gently. “But I hope it wouldn't matter to you if I were. We would still be brothers; we would love one another just as we do now. I would still be me; nothing should change." He paused and laid a hand on Newkirk's cheek. "Is it hard for you to understand, <em>mon petit</em>?"</p><p>"I, I, I j-j-just never thought of it before," Newkirk said. He flushed with embarrassment at where LeBeau’s hand was, and simultaneously wished they were alone so he could curl into his arms. His thumb knuckle was now frantically rubbing at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>LeBeau nodded. “Alright,” he said. “You let me know if you have questions, <em>oui</em>? Come to me or to Colonel Hogan.”</p><p>“Colonel Hogan?” Newkirk said, utterly shocked. “I, I could nnnnever ask him about th-th-this. Nnnever,” he said.</p><p>LeBeau resolved to speak to Garrett later. What grown men chose to do was their business, but Pierre, as far as he was concerned, was off limits. He was just an innocent boy, vulnerable to any show of kindness. Pierre had enough worries for someone so young; another man's evident interest in him was not something he needed on his plate right now.</p><p>He tugged Newkirk’s hand away from his mouth, wrapping both his hands around it. ‘Don’t rub like that,” he said gently. “It looks like you're trying to suck your thumb, and you’re not a little child anymore. Alright? You are big and brave.”</p><p>Newkirk stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded. Yes, LeBeau was right. It must look silly for a grown man to do that. He found a cigarette and lit one up, his hands shaking.</p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p>LeBeau waited until the next morning. During the recreation period, he wandered over to Barracks Nine and took a deep breath. He knocked—no one went in without an appointment—and Garrett came out to see him.</p><p>“Well, well, LeBeau, what can we do for you? I have to say, I was wondering if we’d have the pleasure of your company at some point,” Garrett said.</p><p>LeBeau stared back, momentarily preoccupied. He couldn’t say he’d never thought of it. Three years alone with only your fist and your imagination for company was a long time. Friends sometimes jerked off side by side in the showers or the cooler, but touching was <em>verboten</em>; the unspoken rule was every man for himself. Of course there had been times when he’d craved another person’s touch. Of course he’d wondered if a visit to Barracks Nine would provide some relief. And of course he never went, because Colonel Hogan’s word was law. His orders mattered, and they overrode any urges LeBeau may have felt.</p><p>“Garrett, I’ve come to talk to you about Newkirk,” LeBeau said.</p><p>“Oh? Did he send you?” Garrett stood in his t-shirt, muscular arms with dense brown hair crossing his strong chest. He nearly was as tall as Colonel Hogan, LeBeau calculated as he looked up to face him.</p><p>“Of course not,” LeBeau replied. “I’m here to speak with you, man to man. Let’s get to the point. I can see you’re interested in Newkirk, but I need to ask you not to flirt with him again.”</p><p>“Want him to yourself, eh? I get that,” Garrett said, his hazel eyes glinting. “He’s adorable.”</p><p>“No, it’s not that. I am simply his friend. His brother,” LeBeau said. “He’s too young, Garrett. He’s barely shaving.”</p><p>“Yes, I know he’s young. I didn’t realize <em>how</em> young until recently, actually. So just send him over when he’s eighteen, OK?” Garrett said with a jaunty grin. “Maybe he needs another brother, one who can teach him how to please a man.” Rhys and Feldman had come out to loll against the barracks wall, and they puckered their lips and snickered in the background.</p><p>LeBeau shook his head. “He is a member of Colonel Hogan’s team. You understand what that means.”</p><p>“Oh yes, he’s one of the chosen,” Garrett said. He was aware he had an audience, and he was intent on being entertaining, but there was an edge to his comment.  “Well, that just makes the chase more enjoyable.”</p><p>“Garrett, please. There is not going to be any chase, because you’re going to leave him alone. If you’d rather not talk to me about it, there are other men in Barracks 2 who can explain the situation to you,” LeBeau said.</p><p>Garrett raised both hands in surrender. “Please don’t send Kinch and Garlotti and Olsen after me. They’ll kick my ass.” He slapped a hand to his chest. “But God, LeBeau, he’s <em>so</em> pretty and I think he’d fit right in over here. You can tell, can’t you? It’s obvious, the way he follows you and Hogan around like a little puppy dog.”</p><p>“Mmm, I’d like to pet that puppy,” Rhys chimed in. “Stroke his pretty tail,” he added as Feldman tittered.</p><p>“I don’t think so, Garrett,” LeBeau said firmly, studiously ignoring that comment. “Look, <em>mon ami</em>, I am French. Men with men, this does not concern me as long as both men are agreeable,” he said, shooting a look at Rhys and Feldman. He turned his eyes back to Garrett. “But men with boys troubles me. He is not only young in years, he is very young in experience, and he will still be too young at eighteen or nineteen. He will be too young until it’s <em>his</em> idea of what he wants, and it may never be his idea. <em>Compris</em>?”<br/>
<br/>
“God, LeBeau, you’re killing me. Can I at least talk to him?” Garrett asked. “Can I look at him?”</p><p>“I can’t tell you not to talk to him, Garrett, but I will tell you this. Admire him from a distance if you must, but don’t touch him. <em>Bas les pattes!</em> Do we understand one another?”</p><p>Garrett was no fool. He heard the determination in LeBeau’s voice; he knew Hogan’s men ruled the camp; and moreover, he knew their mission was far more important than what he wanted from Newkirk.</p><p>“I’m sorry to say we do, LeBeau,” Garrett said with a shrug and a grin. “It’s fine; I’ll rein in my crush on little Petey, but you have to promise me that no one else will get a chance with him,” he said, wagging a finger at LeBeau. “Watching him waltz off in another man’s arms would just break my heart.”</p><p><em>Oh, the drama</em>, LeBeau thought. “He’s not going anywhere with anyone, so <em>oui, d’accord</em>,” he assured Garrett. “We have an agreement.” It was a promise he was intent on keeping for as long as Pierre was beside him.</p><p>LeBeau was on his way back to Barracks Two when Garrett caught up with him and grabbed him by the shoulder.  “Hey, LeBeau?” he asked.</p><p>“What?” LeBeau said. What could Garrett possibly want now?</p><p>Garrett paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t have done anything he wasn’t ready for, LeBeau. You get that, right? I’m not that kind of guy. But he might be ready eventually. It just takes some guys a while to see it.” He bit his lip thoughtfully. “It helps to have someone who cares enough to get you comfortable with yourself, you know?” He nodded and walked off, not waiting for LeBeau to respond.</p><p>If he had waited, he would have seen a glimmer of recognition as LeBeau nodded and thought, Yes. Yes, Garrett had that much right. Some roads were hard to walk alone.</p>
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